


ramé

by akobel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Crying Castiel, Crying Dean Winchester, Dean is a Softie, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I mean you could read this as gen but it's pretty gay, M/M, Post-Episode: s13e06 Tombstone, past major character death, you do you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 13:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akobel/pseuds/akobel
Summary: (n) something that is both chaotic and joyful at the same timeDean and Castiel reconnect in the aftermath of Jack's departure.





	ramé

**Author's Note:**

> I found this work finished in my writing folder. I can't believe I didn't think this was good enough to be posted. Enjoy some vintage almost forgotten writing.

          Dean slips through the door of Cas’s room later that night, when they’ve all had a chance to dwell on it. He creeps in as quietly as he can, but the old metal hinges on the door still find a way to creak. He bites back a curse.

  
          Cas, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands, doesn’t look up. He just continues to gaze blankly through to the floor, not even acknowledging Dean’s presence. For a moment, Dean doubts Cas even noticed him sneaking in, but then Cas turns to him and looks up with his deep, miserable eyes. He doesn’t say anything, his mouth pressed into a painful tight line.

  
          “Cas-”

  
          “Don’t say it wasn’t my fault, Dean,” Cas blurts. His eyes have darkened with sad but fierce determination. Unmoving.

  
          Dean swallows. This is going to be hard.

  
          “Cas,” he begins again, lowering to sit on the corner of the bed. There’s still quite a few feet between him and Cas, and he wishes he could just reach out and touch him, hold him, but-

  
          “Jack, he, uh, is really unpredictable. You know, Lucifer . . . and everything. But,” Dean pauses, looking down at his hands. He’s really hit a brick wall, because all these weeks he’s been constantly berating and hounding on this kid. He can’t find the words to describe the good intention he’s only just starting to see. The potential to be something more than doomed to a fate.

  
          Dean’s head whips up to look at Cas when the angel begins to speak. “I’ve only been alive for three days, and I’m already failing Kelly in every way.”

  
          Dean opens his mouth to rebuke, but he shuts it quick when he realizes he’s blinking more than he should be. He takes a deep breath, trying to control the shudder in his breath.

  
          “Cas,” he says for the millionth time, but every time he says it, he’s even more glad he can say it to his face again. “For the last time, don’t beat yourself up, man. You did what you could.”

  
          Cas finally breaks his gaze with Dean and locks his eyes on his hands again. This time he’s flexing his fingers, turning his hand, as if it were foreign to him. Perhaps, since they had burned him, Cas was only beginning to become used to being whole again instead of scattered ashes. Dean swallows roughly at the memory of the fire as he watches Cas examine his own body. Without even a second thought, Dean closes the gap between them, and takes Cas’s hands in his own.

  
          Cas stills his movement.

  
          Dean swallows, panic and apprehension rising in his throat.

  
          He looks him straight in the eye. “We’re gonna be okay, Cas,” he croaks.

  
          Cas is gazing back at him with his bright blue eyes, almost like an ocean from the unshed moisture pooling in them. The angel draws a shaky breath, and dives toward Dean with arms outstretched.

  
          Dean can’t even hold back when Cas curls his arms around his torso anymore. Overdue tears slip down his cheeks but he can’t keep holding back a wide smile. He clings to Cas’s chest, hands clutching the back of his trenchcoat, as laughing sobs bubble from his chest. He can faintly feel Cas’s own tears on the side of his neck, although not nearly as messy as his own. Cas just sits there and weeps, still except the soft stroking of the angel’s fingers on the bottom of his hairline.

  
          “This is quite therapeutic,” Cas chuckles softly after a while.

  
          Eventually, when they’re both spent of their tears, they linger. Dean dreads the moment he’ll have to pull away.

  
          So he holds on tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> follow my [tumblr](https://www.akobel.tumblr.com) for art as well : )


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